“Your freckles,” he whispers, his voice low and genuine, “are the most fucking adorable thing I’ve ever seen. I mean it. They really are. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass. I really fucking love them.”
I feel a spark, something I haven’t felt in a long time. Like I’m not just seen, but cherished. I look up at him and smile. He grins back, and his eyes are kind and sparkling.
His gaze makes me feel beautiful in a way I didn’t know I craved.
We’ve only just met, but it feels like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be—here, on this island with this unexpected, wonderful person who looks at me like I just might be his dream girl.
And it feels amazing.
14
THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL
The Past:
Nobody: …
Work colleague’s partner at a casual Friday work happy hour: You know what everyone’s been thinking?
That you’re an ugly, crazy-looking bitch with your lazy eye. Everybody sees it. You look so stupid.
Me: (jaw drops)
Me: (runs from the room crying)
The Present
“Your eye is one of the first things I noticed about you. It’s something that makes you unique and special. I love that you have a lazy eye.”
I pause and stare at Timmy, not quite sure howto respond. He sounds like he’s being genuine, but there’s an automatic defense mechanism within me that makes me worry he’s making fun of me, secretly laughing at me while pointing out one of my most sensitive flaws.
“Um, huh?” My eyebrow quirks above my non-lazy eye.
Timmy smiles warmly, leaning in closer, as if to reassure me. “Seriously. I appreciate unique features in people—they make them special, and that’s one of yours. I find it interesting. I like it.”
“Oh.” I’m caught off guard. For pretty much my entire life, my lazy eye is something I’ve tried to hide, something that’s made me shrink. And now Timmy is here telling me how much helovesit? It feels foreign, almost unreal. No one’s ever said anything like this before—most people just ignore it or pretend not to notice it, even long-term partners. But Timmy? He’s embracing it.
“I actually have monocular vision,” I explain, feeling the need to fill the silence. “Which means I don’t see out of both eyes at the same time. They’re constantly swapping in and out. It affects my depth perception, which can make parking cars in tight spaces tricky for me. A doctor once even told me I was meant to be terrible at tennis, but I’m actually surprisingly okay at it.”
“Really?” He looks at me like I’ve just told him the most interesting fact. “That’s so interesting and awesome,” he smiles. “We should totally play tennis some time. That sounds like a lot of fun!”
I haven’t known him for long, but this man already never ceases to amaze me. I don’t take compliments well, but there’s something about his words that seems to see beyond the surface and into what’s going on beneath. I’m not used to it—I’m used to feeling invisible.
With Timmy, I’m basking in the glow of his attention, intoxicated by his flattery. With my ex, I could walk in with the sexiest lingerie known to man, with my hair done and full makeup on, my body ripped as hell, and he probably wouldn’t even notice. But Timmy notices every little thing about me, and he seems to love everything he sees.
“I love how soft your skin is,” he says, running his massive handalong my arm. “And the little ginger curls at the nape of your neck. So cute.” He grins, a playful glint in his eyes.
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re the only person who’s ever said that.”
“Well, they’re cute as fuck,” he insists, pulling me closer.
It’s these little things, these tiny compliments that really catch me off-guard. The things I’ve been self-conscious about, like the curls I usually try to hide.
“I love your lips, too,” he tells me. “That slightly fuller lower lip? So sexy.”
The way he sees me. The way he notices me, like an artist painting me might. The way he loves all my quirks and makes me feel like they’re charming rather than flaws.
And then there’s the way he talks about manifesting me. Like I’m some dream come to life. “I was dreaming of a redhead with freckles and milky white skin,” he says, his voice soft with a hint of wonder. “I feel like I manifested you. You can ask Matty. Back on St Patrick’s Day, I told him I was going to find someone who looked just the way you do. I dreamed you into being.”